It's not my room if it's not your room. I'm giving you the key, the door is closed because I don't feel like opening it—just because something opens it doesn't mean you need to open it. A key isn't a substitute for a door. A door isn't the same as the key. A key has teeth, and knows how to use them. When you open the door you don't always know how long it's going to stay open. It isn't an opening you keep open. There are also times when we don't go anywhere at the same time in order to do something together, it doesn't have to be right here. As long as you have the key it doesn't even matter if you're inside. Is it just another asset? I'm not going to pretend you're somewhere else, even when I don't know where you are. It's true, people often disappear when we don't know where they are, and when you call you end up talking to somebody who isn't there—I'm thinking about all the wasted keys that don't open anything, the ones that aren't a good fit, and the ones that are simply incapable, the ones that disappoint you. It's not my room if it's not your room.